Our class went to The Met the following morning. I probably should have stayed in my hotel room and continued to rest, but I was far too stubborn and refused to let a slight stomach bug keep me down. I was in New York City, and the last thing I wanted was to let a little food poisoning hold me back.
“It turns out you weren’t the only one who got sick from the food last night,” Wes said as we walked through the museum together. Mr. Wagner had just told us we could take some free time to explore before meeting back at the entrance in an hour. Cress and Anna had practically sprinted off in excitement. There was a special Alexander McQueen exhibit showing, and they felt like an hour wasn’t nearly long enough to take it in. I’d taken one look at their eager faces and told them to run along without me. I was still far too weak to be rushing anywhere and didn’t want them to miss out.
“Oh no, really?” I asked.
“Sawyer was up all night sick,” he said. “He’s still at the hotel recovering now. I heard a few others using the same excuse to stay back too.”
“That’s not good.”
He shook his head in agreement. “So, I’m impressed you’re here. You should probably be tucked up in bed as well.”
“And waste another second of this trip in my room? I don’t think so.”
As much as I was enjoying The Met, my mind kept drifting back to my conversation with Noah last night. I’d struggled to sleep after he left and spent way too many hours thinking over everything he had said about the history between our families. Those thoughts continued to plague me today.
Noah had given me answers, yes, but I wasn’t sure if I had the full story yet. It felt like there had to be more to it. Surely something had happened to start this whole feud. Considering the hatred and anger between our families, my grandfather’s jealously alone just didn’t seem like enough.
Matthew’s role in the whole thing was also playing on my mind. Why was he continuing his father’s vendetta? Was he really the villain Noah made him out to be? I was curious to hear what Matthew had to say, and I wanted to get his side of the story before I decided how to feel about it all.
I let out a sigh as I gazed up at one of the paintings we were passing. The artwork was a beautiful depiction of a ballet class. The painter had really captured the movement of the dancing ballerinas and the controlled chaos of the other girls in the class looking on. It was an impressive piece of work, but just like the rest of our tour of The Met, I wasn’t really appreciating it. My head was somewhere else, and this museum just wasn’t where I wanted to be right now.
“What’s up?” Wes asked. “Are you not feeling well?”
“No, it’s not that,” I murmured. “I was just thinking about my dad.’
“Do you still want to go to his office?”
“Yeah, I’d like to,” I admitted. “But I don’t know when I’ll have time. I’ll probably have to wait until after the school trip is over, but then Cress, Anna, and Sawyer are going to have all sorts of stuff planned. I don’t want to bail on them.” It was hard not to sound disappointed at the idea I might not get the chance to find and talk to my father. After everything Noah had revealed last night, I didn’t want to wait until Matthew visited Weybridge to question him.
“Well, we could just sneak off now…” Wes gave me a cheeky smile, and his eyes danced with mischief.
I glanced around nervously, checking there weren’t any teachers nearby. When I saw the coast was clear, I whispered, “Won’t we get in trouble?”
Wes shrugged. “Your father’s building isn’t far from here, and it’s not like the teachers are keeping close tabs on us.”
He looked excited by the prospect of sneaking off, and I slowly started to share his smile. “Okay, but if we get caught, I’m telling them it was your idea.”
“Excellent.” He grabbed me by the hand and started to guide me from the museum. We didn’t bump into any teachers as we wound our way back through the building, and when we neared the entrance, Mr. Wagner was in such a deep conversation with one of the museum staff that he didn’t notice us as we passed.
As we stepped outside, I started to laugh. I had no idea how we hadn’t been caught. We’d walked right by Mr. Wagner, and he hadn’t even glanced our way.
Wes didn’t seem nearly as surprised. “I had Mr. Wagner for English last year,” he said. “The guy loves nothing more than to hear himself speak. That poor museum curator was such a captive audience I doubt Mr. Wagner would have noticed if the building was on fire.”
We hurried down the iconic steps in front of the building, and Wes hailed a taxi. He gave the guy directions, and we took off from the curb, our escape complete.
“How do you know where my dad’s office is anyway?” I asked as I stared out the window at the buildings flashing past.
“My father has a hotel across the road,” Wes said. “And The LaFleur Corp is kind of hard to miss.”
I shot him a questioning look, but he simply smiled in response.
When the cab started to slow, Wes nodded to my window and pointed upward. Curious, I peered out, and as I gazed into the sky, I saw LaFleur printed in bold letters across the top of the building.
“You can see it from practically every high-rise in the city,” Wes explained.
“Subtle,” I joked, still staring in awe at the building and my father’s name proudly displayed as part of the New York skyline. Just when I thought I was starting to understand just how rich and successful he was, I realized there was so much I still didn’t know about him.
Wes paid the cab driver, and we got out of the car. I drew in a deep breath as I looked up at my father’s building once more. I felt so small and insignificant standing in front of it, and I had to tilt my head back to look to the top. His wealth seemed so vast to me. The differences between us were so impossibly huge.
“So, what are you going to say to your dad?”
I tore my gaze from the building to look at Wes. I’d thought about what I was going to ask my father many times since the White Ball a few weeks ago. After speaking to Noah last night, I had even more questions. Wes didn’t know I’d spoken to Noah, and I couldn’t give him details because I’d made a promise I wouldn’t tell a soul.
“You know how Noah took me home from the theater last night?”
“Yeah…”
“Well, I finally got him to tell me the history of this bitterness between our families.” I felt a sudden chill go down my back, and I wrapped my arms around me as I remembered what it had been like to hear Noah’s story.
“Shit, really? What did he say?”
‘It was a long story,” I said, trying to avoid explaining any further. “I just want to ask Matthew for his side of things. I’m sure Noah wasn’t trying to be biased, but it’s his family so how could he not be?”
“Yeah,” Wes agreed. “I guess it would be impossible to be totally impartial.”
I let out a sigh and glanced up at Matthew’s building again. A wave of nerves rocked through me. What if my father wouldn’t see me? Or what if I upset him by bringing up his sister? I didn’t want to overstep.
“Do you need backup?” Wes asked “I can wait out front if you like? Or I’m happy to come with you. I…”
His voice trailed off, and I glanced at him. There was a surprised look in his eyes and he was focused on something behind me. I turned to follow his gaze, and I drew in a sharp breath as I saw what had caught Wes’s attention. Noah had just walked out of my father’s building and onto the sidewalk.
“What’s he doing here?” Wes voiced his confusion before I could.
‘I don’t know.” I replied, keeping my eyes locked on Noah.
I couldn’t quite believe what I was seeing, but there he was. Through the crowds of people streaming past the building, I was definitely looking at Noah standing at the entrance
He didn’t notice us, which wasn’t all that surprising given how many people were on the street. He paused briefly as he took out his phone and checked something on the screen before tucking it into his pocket. He took a deep breath and glanced up at the building towering above him. A frown crossed his brow, but it disappeared again as he stepped to the edge of the sidewalk and hailed a cab.
I was still in a state of shock as I watched him climb into the car, and by the time I was able to think clearly again, he was already driving off down the road. Noah had visited my father’s building. Was he there for the same reason as me—to visit my father?
I reconsidered our conversation from last night. Noah had given no indication he had any desire to talk with my father. In his eyes, my father was the villain. Even worse than my grandfather. After I had suggested the unlikely idea of one day reconciling the differences between our families, he had balked and said it was impossible. My stomach dipped unpleasantly. If Noah had been in this building, it wasn’t for anything good.
I slowly turned to face Wes. “You saw him too, right? Noah was coming out of the building?”
“Yeah, it was him,” Wes nodded. “He wasn’t at The Met earlier, but I just assumed he was out sick like everyone else who is MIA this morning.”
“So, he bailed on The Met to come to my dad’s office? Why would he do that?”
“Maybe he was asking your dad for your hand in marriage?” Wes suggested.
I shook my head. I wasn’t in the mood to joke about this. “Seriously though, why would Noah come see my dad? They’re supposed to be worst enemies…”
“Maybe he wants to bury the hatchet?”
‘That’s impossible.” I echoed Noah’s words. “You should have seen the way he spoke about my family last night, especially my father. There’s no burying the hatchet between them.” I was more confident of that than ever before after speaking to Noah last night and seeing the pain in his eyes when he’d recounted what had happened with my aunt and his dad. Though I didn’t repeat that to Wes. “Plus, his grandfather would probably disown him for being within a few hundred feet of this building let alone setting up a meeting to let bygones be bygones. Noah would never go against him.”
Wes shrugged. “It could also be a coincidence,” he suggested. “There are a few restaurants and some other offices in this building. I guess you’ll have to ask Noah or your dad if you want to find out.”
“Yeah, I guess.”
I jumped as my phone started ringing, and I pulled it from my back pocket. I hadn’t realized quite how on edge I was, but my heart rate kicked up another notch when I saw my dad’s number lighting up the screen. I flipped the phone around to show Wes.
“This just keeps getting weirder,” I said.
“Are you going to answer?”
I nodded and lifted the phone to my ear. “Hello?”
“Hello, Isobel,” my father said pleasantly, his deep, English accent making my name sound far posher than it was.
“Hi, Matthew. What’s up?” I glanced up at the building as I spoke, wondering if he somehow knew I was out front. Or if perhaps his call had something to do with Noah?
“I know you’re in town this week, and I’ve managed to shuffle my schedule around. I was hoping we could have dinner tonight.”
“Tonight?”
“Yes.”
I was outside his building right now, but I supposed I could wait until this evening to talk to him. If I went storming into his office, he might not be as receptive to answering my questions. I might be better off letting him do this on his terms.
“Sure, that would be great.”
“Perfect. Text me the address for where you’re staying, and I’ll have a car pick you up and bring you to my apartment tonight.”
“Okay.”
“I’m just between meetings, so I must rush off, but I look forward to seeing you tonight.”
“I’ll see you then,” I said.
He hung up the phone, and I blew out a breath. “Looks like operation break into my father’s office and accost him is off. He wants to have dinner with me tonight.”
“That’s great.” Wes smiled. “And I don’t think it’s considered breaking in if you’re his daughter. I’m sure he would have loved to see you.”
“Maybe.” That was still something I didn’t feel all that confident of though. I hadn’t had a proper conversation with him since the ball, and I was quite sure our next discussion wasn’t going to be particularly pleasant. Matthew certainly seemed reluctant to talk about his history with the Hastings, and after hearing Noah’s side of things I could see why.
I was still in a state of shock over everything Noah had revealed. He had painted Matthew as the bad guy, but I still wasn’t sure what to believe. I dreaded to think what further twists Matthew might have to add to the tale.
Either way, this dinner was no longer simply about the rift with the Hastings, it was also about what kind of person my father was. I wanted the truth, but how was I going to feel once I finally had it? And what if Noah was right? What if Matthew was the villain in all of this?
